walk along the lonely street of dreams
by MedusaOfTheSpecies
Summary: "Even if Hell freezes over, we're still Dumbledore's army. Harry loved us and we loved him, and I am still my parents' son." :: AU. Harry dies, and Neville is left with a decision to make. :: For QLFC Round 8.


QLFC Round 8: Nine of Wands — Upright: Resilience, Grit, Last Stand. | Additional Prompts: (song) Here I Go Again - Whitesnake, (world) immune

**walk along the lonely street of dreams**

There are a few seconds, even when Harry doesn't stir and Voldemort continues to boast, that Neville's traitorous heart still believes he's going to wake up and save them all.

He doesn't know when it hits him. Maybe it's when Ginny—fiery, loud, dramatic Ginny—goes still at his elbow, her skin turned pale. Maybe it's the look on Ron's and Hermione's faces, like they just lost a part of themselves.

Hagrid is crying. Hagrid, who is bigger and older and who loves Harry just as much as they do, is weeping. Maybe that's when it truly registers.

"Harry Potter is dead," Voldemort says, but Neville isn't really listening, because Harry left him something before he went to die for them all—a final request.

_Kill the snake. _

"We need to get his snake's attention," Neville whispers to Ginny. Voldemort is still talking, and someone is weeping, but his entire body is running on adrenaline.

Ginny turns to look at him, Luna peeking at him curiously over her shoulder. "Does this have something to do with what Harry said earlier in the Room of Requirement?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure. But I think he's immune until we get all the pieces of him, Gin. This is what Harry wanted."

Luna and Ginny exchange a look, something passing between them. "I'll kill the snake," Ginny says finally, in what feels like a decade but must have been no more than a second. "I'm pretty damn familiar with dealing with the ugly parts of Tom Riddle's soul."

There are so many things he wants to say to that, but instead, he just squeezes her hand. They've been through this year together, dealt with the Carrows and the grief and the end of all peace. This is just one more obstacle and just for a second he feels like Harry, like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

"Harry Potter is dead! He was always meant to be nothing more than a pawn who let others sacrifice themselves on his behalf," Voldemort gloats, his red eyes shining. His army laughs behind him, cruel and smug, and Neville feels himself rise to his full height. He's putting a target on his back, maybe, but maybe he's already always had one.

"Harry Potter may be dead, but he died for us!" Neville yells passionately, "he knew there were things worth dying for and we're going to finish this for him!"

In the moments following his speech two things happen simultaneously. Ginny steps out from behind her invisibility spell, almost on the opposite side of the room, and slices through Nagini's serpentine spine with Godric Gryffindor's sword. Meanwhile, the battle which had come to a halt resumes in earnest.

Grawp begins to fight with the giants, the ground shaking as they move. Neville feels himself being pushed by the crowd as they move towards the Entrance Hall to avoid being crushed. He can't see Voldemort anymore but he can hear his voice, so he grabs the hand of whoever's closest to him (Luna, who grabs Ginny in turn) and runs toward the direction of the Great Hall.

By the time they arrive, it's already chaos. Voldemort stands in the centre of the battle, striking all within reach. Neville watches George and Lee bring down Yaxley as Professor Flitwick and Hagrid get Dolohov and Macnair.

"Watch out mate!" Someone screams at him and Neville throws himself to the side, only to avoid Fenrir Greyback's claws and teeth by a mere inch; too close for comfort.

The screamer turns out to be Ron. Between the two of them, Fenrir gets thrown into the wall, bones cracking. Neville doesn't even get a chance to check if he's alive or not. Beside him, Aberforth Dumbledore stuns Rookwood, and the room is illuminated by so many spells it makes him dizzy.

"My dad and brother got Thicknesse!" Ginny yells gleefully. She's duelling someone in a mask and Neville turns to help her, only to watch her spell succeed just in the nick of time.

"Nice one, Ginny," he says and they both smile at each other just for a second, one soft moment in a sea of horror and death.

That's when Bellatrix shows up. Voldemort is duelling with Professor McGonagall, Professor Slughorn, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, but they had lost track of his right-hand woman, a rookie mistake.

In the second of pure fear, he watches in what feels like slow motion as Bellatrix aims a killing curse at Ginny. Thankfully, Ginny ducks and rolls and when she comes up a second later, she has nothing more then a bruise and his relief is palatable.

He's seen her plan a war and fight monsters by his side, and yet, just for a second, he remembers her when she was eleven, coming back from the hospital wing. She had lost so much then and she's going to lose more now, and he wishes he can prevent it, can make the loss of her loved ones easier, but this isn't his fight.

"This is for Harry, you bitch," Ginny shouts back, her lips curving into something angry and cruel, and she sends a spell at Bellatrix with a quick swipe of her wand. Bellatrix roars with laughter in return until the spell hits and then her previous expression of derision falters, only to be replaced by a scowl.

The room seems to heat with the magic the two of them are expelling and Neville sees Molly Weasley approach, but Ginny shakes her head.

"No, Mum! Get back! Get back! She's mine!"

The two witches wands slash and twist, their rage evident in the way each spell collides. There's so much to the history behind them, hate and loss and grief. Ginny is sixteen, and yet she looks older than ever as hundreds of people line the wall to watch the fight.

"I am going to kill you and then you can match your brother, little Weasley," Bellatrix taunts, laughing in glee, and Ginny falters. For a second, he sees her break and for an even longer second he watches her pull herself back together.

"For Fred," Ginny snarls and what comes out of her wand isn't even a spell but a release of magic, a fatal blow that strikes Bellatrix directly over her heart. With her eyes bulging and smile gone, Bellatrix falls, but Voldemort turns to them, screaming in anger and grief.

Neville catches Ginny when she stumbles, pushing her into her mother's arms. He knows she'd fight this fight too if she had to, but Voldemort is his. Harry wouldn't have wanted her to die for this.

Voldemort blasts away the duelists he was previously fighting with and turns towards Ginny with his wand drawn, but Neville steps forward.

"Neville Longbottom," Voldemort says in mock surprise. "Well, I do hope you aim to put up a better fight then your parents did against the Lestranges."

"The Lestranges are all dead," Neville says quietly, but the sound echoes in the now-silent room. "My parents and I are alive. I'm not Harry, and I'm not the Chosen One, but Harry and I were friends. I won't let you make any more kids grow up without their parents."

Voldemort laughs. It's a cold and mocking sound that makes the hair on Neville's arms rise against his will.

"Harry Potter and I were destined for one of us to destroy each other. What claim do you have to this fight, Neville Longbottom? What reason do you have to live?"

Neville shakes his head. "I'm not the Chosen One," he repeats steadily. "But there's nobody to hide behind for me. This is my fight too. We're going to keep fighting as long as it takes, you know that? Even if Hell freezes over, we're still Dumbledore's army. Harry loved us and we loved him, and I am still my parents' son."

Voldemort laughs again, but it's different this time. Neville isn't surprised when he raises his wand. "Then prepare to die, Neville Longbottom. And for those who follow you, prepare for them to meet the same fate as Potter did."

Neville raises his wand too. There are so many more words he wants to say, but he knows in his bones he's ready. He's ready to die for those he loves the way his parents were tortured for him. There are so many people who mean something to him—his lieutenants back at Hogwarts, the scared and scarred children who transformed themselves into an army, everyone who showed up to help him end this war.

Thousands of people stare and he watches Voldemort open his mouth to say the words, praying to every power in existence that his will is enough, that his last stand is enough. This is something worth dying for.

"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort and Neville Longbottom say in sync, and the spells collide.


End file.
